Bloodied
by Kat The Maniac
Summary: I feel like Hetalia makes you look at the world like one big joke, distorting what's really there. Somebody's gotta pull you all down from cloud nine. And I guess I'll be the one to do it.


_**TW- Character Death, and gore, if this isn't your cup of tea, this fanfic is not for you.**_

_**Also, thought I'd put this here too, none of this is set in the canon universe, it's in an alternate reality, where things are grittier, and more realistic**_

* * *

"Grazie Ma'm! Have a nice day!"

He handed the plastic bag to the woman with a sickeningly sweet smile.

She nodded her head and snatched the bag away, muttering

"Yeah, yeah, thank you."

His smile faded, and the second she turned around, he rolled his eyes.

God damned tourists.

Why was he even working this job?

Oh yeah, he needed to get money somehow, the country's money all went...

It all went to...

...Him...

Veneziano gave a small shudder as rubbed his arms trying to get rid of the goosebumps.

Well at least there was nobody in the tiny souvenir shop now.

And if he was lucky, maybe one of his citizens would pop in, and he'd have a nice chat.

That was pretty common in his last job at the supermarket, but what decent Italian would be found walking into a souvenir shop...

He looked down, and started twiddling his thumbs, when suddenly, the clang of a bell rang out through the tiny shop.

Immediately, his head snapped up, and the horrible sugary grin was back on his face.

"Ciao! We have a..."

No.

No, no, no, no!

He was protected!

He was safe, he was undercover, this could've never happened!

The smile shook and fell, as his face turned pale and tears started to slowly leak out of his eyes.

"Boungioruno Veneziano."

There, strolling in nonchalantly, was...

Romano.

The goosebumps were back, and he gripped his chest, fearing his heart would beat straight out of it.

He swallowed the bile in his mouth and stuttered out

"W-Why...W-Why are..."

"Why am I here?"

Romano -after what seemed like a lifetime to Veneziano- ,finally made it to the counter, leaned on it, and chuckled.

"Can't I just pop in to say hello?"

Veneziano pressed himself against the wall, taking deep breaths, doing anything he could think of to calm himself down.

He was brave! He was hundreds of years old! He could face his older brother!

Halfway through his mental pep talk, he felt a sticky, smelly, moistness in his pants, and clenched his eyes at Romano's burst of laughter.

"Jeez! I haven't done anything yet, and you've already gone and pissed yourself!"

Veneziano gave a small sob and sunk to the floor, covering his face, and praying to whatever God would listen to make Romano poof out of existence.

"So Fratello.."

Out of nowhere, Veneziano's chest swelled with what could be called bravery, causing him to snarl and glare at his brother

"Don't call me that!"

He instantly regretted it.

Romano simply laughed, reached into his jacket, pulled out a knife, and hurled it towards him.

Veneziano screamed and clenched his eyes shut again, hearing it thud and stick against the wall right next to his ear.

"Darn it. I missed.."

No he didn't.

This was part of his trap.

And Veneziano fell in every time.

He jumped over the counter with ease, crouched down so that he'd be just above Veneziano and whispered

"So, brother. Tell me. Are you scared..?"

Veneziano trembled with fear, and his whole body shook with sobs, as he refused to look at anything but the back of his eyelids.

"N-N..."

A wild sob

"YES. YES, YOU BASTARD!"

Then a deep chuckle

"Good. You should be."

Veneziano's left shoulder was set on fire as Romano plunged his knife into it.

"So...Little brother, will you join me..? Can you imagine how powerful Camorra* would be with all of Italy behind it?"

Italy screamed and shook and sobbed, but still kept one thing close to his heart.

He thought of his people, his happy, carefree, people, and he couldn't bear thinking of them living in his hell.

With a hack, and a spit at his brother's shoes, he knew he had sealed his fate.

"Oh Vene...You'll never learn will you?"

He screeched as the knife was quickly pulled out, and plunged back in, this time his stomach.

Hot blood running down his arm, salty tears dripping from his chin, and his heart beating faster then a rabbit's, his throat scratched raw from all the horrible screaming, it all summed up to one godamned thing.

Fear.

Fearing what could be

Fearing the mafia.

But mostly.

Fearing his older brother.

A third stab, this time his right shoulder, but the pain was dull, and his vision was full of black spots.

Oh thank God, last time he didn't black out until 30 minutes in.

"Aw Veneziano, leaving us already...?"

Romano got a bit more creative, as he yanked his brother's left arm, twisted it, and started cutting, reopening old scars, and spreading crimson all over Veneziano's pale skin.

But it didn't matter.

One look into his brother's glassy eyes, and he scoffed

"Fucking weakling."

Pulling out his knife, he wiped it on his brother's shirt and put it back into the jacket.

If it all went how it usually did, Veneziano would wake up fully healed maybe an hour or two later. Absolutely terrified, he'd move to yet another Northern Italian city, and Romano would have to waste time and resources looking for him.

It always took him a couple of years, but Romano always found him.

And he'd always ask the same question.

Then his stupid, selfless brother would say no.

But he'd crack one day.

He strolled out the shop, double checked the door was locked, and stuck his bloodied hands in his pocket.

Whistling a random tune, he noticed a pretty woman, then winked at her and sent a coy smile, causing her to giggle.

Out of sight, out of mind as they say...

* * *

***Camorra- The mafia that centers mostly in Naples, although it has spread throughout the world, it's very old, and very powerful.**

**Eh, not my best tbh, but I always wanted to write something like this, so I went ahead and did it, then I thought of the other countries, and was like "Holy shit, this would make a pretty cool fic." Basically, this is based on (BTW I'M NOT AN EXPERT IN ANY POLITICS, OR SITUATIONS THAT I PRESENT IN THIS FIC, I LITERALLY HAVE JUST DONE RESEARCH ON THE INTERNET, I HOPE I DO THEM JUSTICE) Italy's slowly becoming corrupted government, and the overall fear of the mafia in the country. Literally, while I was other there during my 15's trip, I had a tour guide from Naples, and he was talking, literally all he had to do was say the mafia's name, and he got goose bumps. If that's not terror, I don't know what is. Also, I thought I'd give you guys a hint on who the next country is going to be...He's a bit...Divided..*Evil Cackle***


End file.
